The Actress
by mlr96
Summary: "Life is a play." He said. "And you have the main role." "I do?" She asked. "Of course, dear. Your role is who they made you think you are." "But I'm not that person, Jim." "We know that. But they don't know you know." Sherlock's sister comes back to his life after five years under the redar. Will the detective get his sister back, or is she lost to the one who can hurt him most?
1. Pilot

**A/N: So I just came up with the idea of this fic and I'm debating on whether or not I should continue writing it. Comments will be very welcomed, both positive and negative ones, as they help me write better.**

**This is an initial draft, the story night go through changes if I will decide to keep writing it.**

**If I will continue writing it, I will probably post the next chapter during the next week: Tuesday/Wednesday, after that, I will post a chapter every weekend.**

**I really hope you'd like it, as I like the idea of this story in my head and I think it will be interesting to continue writing it.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Amanda stood outside the house where she knew Sherlock was living. She hadn't seen him for five years and wasn't sure how will he react to her return. Probably anger. Though calling Mycroft would be his second action once he will overcome the shock. She started having second thoughts about the whole deal, but she also knew it was too late to turn back. She made a decision, and she has to keep it. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door. An old woman opened it and looked her up and down.

"Client?" she asked.

"No, I'm… I just need to see Sherlock. I was told this is where he stays." Amanda mumbled to the looks of the unconvinced woman.

"Of course, deary." She said as she let her in. "Right up there. They're always there." She added, pointing at the staircase leading to 221B.

'They?' Amanda thought and walked up the stairs. She vaguely remembered the mention of a doctor that worked with Sherlock, but she couldn't recall the name. She hastily opened the door. Inside, she could hear the familiar voice of Sherlock and another one she hadn't recognized. She walked into the living room where she saw Sherlock laying on the couch.

"It was an honest mistake!" He yelled.

"An honest mistake means it only happens once, not ten times!" Yelled the other man out of the kitchen. "How many times must I tell you, Sherlock: You cannot punch a suspect in a police interrogation simply because they..." He stepped out of the kitchen and stopped mid-sentence as he saw Amanda.

Sherlock looked up, curious as to why his friend stopped talking and froze as he saw Amanda. "Amanda." He said, his voice emotionless.

"Sherlock." She replied, preparing herself for what will happen next. A million possible scripts passed through her mind over the past days since she returned to London, but neither of them was him stepping up and pulling her into an embrace. Her arms automatically wrapped around him and she held him close, finally letting all the feeling she suppressed rise up to the surface.

She forgot how much she missed him.

"Amanda," Sherlock said as they finally freed each other, "this is my best friend, John Watson. John, I'd like you to meet my sister, Amanda."

"Sister?" John asked while shaking Amanda's hand politely. "I never knew you had a sister."

"And since when do you do friends?" asked Amanda. "Though I must say," she added, her eyebrows raised while examining the person in front of her, "no complains here."

"He's kind of an exception as to being my friend." Sherlock said, ignoring her comment and the blush that rose on John's cheeks. "And yes, John, I do have a sister. Though I hadn't seen her in the past five years." He added, shooting Amanda an accusing look.

"I'm sorry, Sherlock, but I had to get away." Amanda explained, truly sorry for her elder brother. "I felt suffocated. Between mother and father wanting me to go to Cambridge and Mycroft always at the lookout, I had to get away."

"I understand that, but going off the radar for five years?" He asked. "A bit of an overkill here, don't you think?"

"Mycroft." She replied, not elaborating.

Both Sherlock and John realized it was enough, as anyone who knew Mycroft could understand why it was needed to entirely disappear in order to get a break from him.

"Never mind that," Amanda said, putting a fake smile on her face. "The important thing is that I'm back here."

"I need to call him."

The smile slid off Amanda's face. "I know." She said with an excepting sigh. Not that she had much choice of that matter. "I'll wait here with John."

"What?" Asked John, but before he could do anything to protest, Sherlock was off.

"So," Amanda said, half a smile on her face as she watched John get more inconvenient with every word she said, "how did you get to become a friend of my brother?"

"It just… sort of… happened." He said, causing Amanda to laugh.

"That is how things usually go around with Sherlock." She said, her hand on his arm. "Don't worry," she whispered in his ear, "he gets better with time."

Just at this point, Sherlock entered back into the room. John looked relieved from not having to answer Amanda's comment. "He's outside." Sherlock told Amanda and she gave Sherlock a hug and planted a kiss on John's cheek, just close enough to his lips to make him feel uncomfortable, right before heading outside. "Sorry about her," she could hear Sherlock telling John right before she left the room. "She can be a bit… weird sometimes."

'No kidding.' Amanda thought as she walked out of the flat and entered the big, black car that parked there. Immediately as she entered, she could hear a familiar voice.

"Marisela Louisa Amanda Holmes, what the hell were you thinking?" Asked Mycroft, looking at her with anger in his eyes. She opened her mouth to speak but he held out a hand to stop her. "Five years." He said. "You had five years to contact and explain yourself, but you didn't. You've lost your chance. Do you have any idea how worried was I? How worried were Mother and Father? How much it affected Sherlock? Do you know he nearly relapsed?"

"I never meant for any of it to happen." Amanda mumbled.

"Of course you didn't." said Mycroft. "That's just what happens when you don't think!"

"I was thinking!" She said, mad at him. Within less than five minutes, he managed to remind her why she left in the first place. "I was thinking about myself! For once in my life, I did what was best for me. And let me tell you something – I don't regret it for a moment!"

Mycroft studied his younger sibling for so long Amanda began feeling uncomfortable. She wasn't going to say another word, though. She was sick and tired of explaining herself for those who didn't care. As the minutes passed on with no remark from Mycroft's behalf, she decided she isn't gonna take it any longer.

"Let me out." She said.

"Amanda…" Mycroft tried.

"No." She said sternly. She was not ready to listen to him talk any second longer. "Earlier I've missed my chance to explain. Now you've missed yours. Let me out."

"Amanda, please, I'm ready to listen –"

"You are never ready to listen!" She yelled, the frustration from her overprotective family showing up its signs. "All you ever do is pretending you're listening, only to make me keep quiet. And I'm sick and tired of it. Let. Me. Out."

"Can I at least take you back to Baker Street?" Mycroft asked, worried how she will find her way back home in the middle of this unfamiliar neighborhood.

"No." Amanda replied.

He opened the car door and she climbed out of it. She felt the world spinning around her as she rose too quickly, but didn't show, so that Mycroft wouldn't have a reason to stay. He looked at her one last time as she turned and walked away.

"If you need anything," he said, "you know you can always call me, right?"

Amanda hadn't as much as looked at him as she dialed the number she learnt by heart during the past years.

"Hello." Said the cold, yet familiar voice from the other end of the line.

"Hey, it's me." She said, as she began every conversation with him. "I just met them and they don't suspect anything. I'm in."

She could hear the smile in Jim's voice. "Good girl." He said. "You have fifteen minutes to be back to the usual place. And you better not be late like last time."

She shivered from the memory of that occasion, and promised herself she will not be put through this again. "I'll be there." She said, only to the sound of silence, as Jim hung up already.

She hurried on her way, afraid to become, once again, the subject of Moriarty's wrath.

* * *

**PLEASE COMMENT!**


	2. Sherlock

**A/N:**** So this chapter doesnt have much plot in it in present time, it's more of Amanda's history. You know how it's like... Creating your OC's background...**

**Again: Pleeeeeeease comment, anything, just so that I will know I'm not writing for nothing...**

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Sherlock. All I own is Amanda and her background, plus my creaticity XP**

* * *

"How come you've never told me you have a sister?" John asked Sherlock after Amanda went on her way.

"It was unimportant, John."

"Of course it was important." John insisted. "She is your sister."

"I had not seen her in three years before we met, John." Sherlock claimed. "As far as I was aware, she might as well be dead."

"Did you fear of her being dead?" John asked hastily, watching Sherlock's every reaction.

"What is this sudden questioning, John?" Sherlock asked, annoyed. "Why is it suddenly so important?"

"It's suddenly important because I just found out about her, Sherlock. And I'm not questioning you, I'm just…" John searched for the right word. "Curious."

The silence lasted a couple of minutes. John had already thought Sherlock forgot when the reply arrived. "I may have been worried at some point that she is dead. And I was relieved to find out she isn't."

"Why did she disappeared?" John asked, trying to navigate the conversation to safe water.

"She was an actress. Bloody good at it, too." Sherlock said, pride in his voice. "Our parents didn't approve," pride turned its place to bitter, "and neither did Mycroft."

"And you?"

"I just wanted her to do what is best for her." He said simply.

"You're avoiding answering the question." John said.

"I gave her my support in being an actress, if you must know." Sherlock said. "I gave her my blessing and said I think she should do what she wants. And the next day, she was gone."

John noticed the pain in his friend's voice. "You know it's not your fault, right?" He said.

"How could it not be my fault?" Sherlock asked, annoyance back in his voice. "I told her she should be an actress so she ran away for five years. Our parents were so worried, Mycroft looked for her non-stop for a year before he put it down and I lost my sister."

"But now she's back." John noted.

"But she's different." Said Sherlock.

"How?"

"She doesn't have as much confident as she used to have." Sherlock said.

"That's the not so confident Amanda?" John said, amused. "I'd love to meet the confident one."

A smile hinted on Sherlock's lips. "Yes, you would." He said.

"How is she like?" John asked.

"Like the brightest star on the sky." Sherlock smiled again. "You notice her no matter how many people are around her. And she captures your attention, and never let go." He stared at the air for about a minute before snapping himself out of it. "You need to go." He told John.

"Right, yes." John said, getting up. "I have a date."

Sherlock was back to his position on the couch, laying and unplugging himself from the world.

"Of course." John sighed to himself and walked out the door.

Sherlock hadn't noticed as time went on by the hours. He thought of 19 year-old Amanda, the girl who ran away to be an actress and wondered what had happened to her. She was not the same person who stood before him, which he should have anticipated, considering how much he himself had changed since she last saw him.

Five years were way too long for him not to see her, so instead of thinking about who she had become, he tried to remember the little girl she used to be.

As the youngest child of the family, especially being a girl, Amanda always got all the attention and affection of their parents. And unlike Sherlock, who would literally scream for attention, she never wanted it. All she ever wanted is to be a normal girl with a normal life.

And so she refused to enter any program which included finishing school early, went out to dates and parties and took as many enrichment classes as she could. One of them was Theater, which ended up to becoming her greatest love.

When she was sixteen, she got the roll of Hermia at Shakespeare's "Midsummer Night's Dream", and she invited the entire family to watch. Her own dream, however, shuttered right in front of her eyes as Sherlock was the only one to arrive. He never quite figured why people wasted time or money on shows, but he knew how much it meant for her, so he came. Mother and Father hadn't showed up. They were very clear: As much as Acting is an optional fine hobby, it is not a job. She should leave it alone and focus on the truly important matters, such as her grades.

But, being the stubborn girl she is, Amanda never listened. In fact, she did all she could to annoy her parents, starting with piercing her nose and getting a tattoo and ending with going to drama lessons after school. She told her parents she was going to a friend's house, and used the money on Sherlock's account to pay for it, promising to return it when she could.

The deal lasted for a couple of months before an actor's agents saw her, was impressed and called her to offer her a job. More specifically – calling her home number.

"Can you please explain us what the hell were you two thinking?" Mother asked, her voice low and angry. "Because we, most certainly, cannot understand."

"I just want to act." Amanda said simply.

"No, you don't!" Mother said. Sherlock saw the hurt on his sister's face from the heedless tone their mother used to rule out the possibility of Amanda knowing what she is talking about. "Soon enough this phase of your youth rebellion will pass and you will understand that all we want is what best for you!"

"I would do so now if I thought it to be true!" Pain burst through her voice as she spoke. "You only want what you think is best for me, not even considering my opinion! Sherlock asked!"

"Don't dare bringing your brother into it!"

"I'm already involved, Mother." Sherlock said.

"Your opinion," Mother continued, ignoring Sherlock's comment, "is subjective because all that matters to you at the moment is to do the opposite of what we want."

"No, it isn't!" Amanda insisted. "It's really what I want to do!"

"Mother, will you please listen to her?" Sherlock tried his luck once again.

"No, I will not!" Mother exclaimed.

"Dear…" Father tried speaking, but mother stopped him before he even began.

"Don't you 'dear' me, darling!" She said. "You know as much as I do that I am right and she is wrong!"

"Don't you think that your judgment is blurred at the moment?" He asked.

"No, I don't!"

"Fine!" Amanda said, tears streaming down her face. "If you won't listen to me, than I have no interest in listening to you!" And with that, she marched out of the room, Sherlock at her heels.

She stayed at his place for the following week, and after she returned home, wouldn't have a word with their mother for another month. Eventually, her anger softened. But they all knew she hadn't forgot.

When Mother came to her on her nineteenth birthday and said excitingly that her birthday present is paying for her first degree at Cambridge, Amanda was over with pretense. She said her farewell to Sherlock, who didn't recognize it as one until it was too late, and went off.

Sherlock just hoped she was making the right decision.


	3. Jim

Amanda hurried towards the meeting point, trying to keep her mind off the morning's events, unsuccessfully. Five years were too long not seeing them and though her meeting with Mycroft was as unwelcoming as she anticipated and she had no desire of meeting her so-called parents, she couldn't help but being touched by Sherlock's reaction.

He seemed to truly care about her, which was absurd, giving the circumstances. Was it possible he really didn't know? She overruled the thought the instant it passed through her mind. He knows. He must know, as he was old enough to understand by the time she arrived to their place, just a baby held in blankets. He must know or he's a complete idiot.

She stood, waiting for Jim. A quick look at her watch showed her she's early by two minutes. He always arrived at time.

That was the worst part in every meeting they'd had. The fear of not knowing. As far as she knew, he could go away and she'd be lost, again.

She remembered when she first met him. She was angry at him, righteously, for taking her to his house when she told the cabbie, very specifically, she wanted to go to the airport. But over time, once she stopped being so stubborn, she realized how right he was.

She never felt like she belonged to the Holmes'. She never truly felt like a part of their family. And Jim helped her understand that. She never felt like she belonged because she didn't. They took her from the hospital, away from her real family. Away from him, her real brother. But now she's back. And she's going to get her revenge.

The crimson-colored car stopped next to her and Sebastian came out of the driver's seat and opened the door for her.

"Thanks, Sebby." Amanda said as she sat in the comfortable seat and looked to the right to see Jim beaming at her.

"You were glorious, dear." He said.

"I was fine." She ignored the compliments she never knew how to receive. "I could have been glorious if you would have told me he's sharing a flat with Watson."

"The surprise wouldn't be as real, dear." Jim explained. "It's hard to fake."

"I guess we'll never know since you didn't give me a chance to prove myself." Amanda said, annoyed.

"You handled it wonderfully, though." He said. "You should have pictured the look on Watson's face. It was worth gold."

"Rule number one when feeling uncomfortable." She said with a smile. "Make them feel uncomfortable, too."

"And you did." He beamed at her.

"Jim," she started, cautiously asking the question she wanted to ask for quite a long time, hopefully she proved herself today enough for him to say yes. "Can I… Go out tonight? To a bar or something at that sort? Just… loosen myself, enjoy, maybe meeting someone…" Her voice decreased to a whisper the more she talked and became almost non-existing by the time she was done and he looked at her.

"You know the answer to that, dear." He said.

"It's just been so long since I was out, Jim." Amanda complained. "Why can't I go and have a social life?"

"You can, honey." Jim said. "Just not in London."

"But why?" She insisted.

He looked at her. "Do you trust me?" He asked.

"Always."

"Do you trust my plan?" He questioned, and she sighed.

"Of course I do, Jim." She said. "I just don't see how I fit into it."

"Life is a play." Jim told her. "And you have the main role."

"I do?" She asked. "It doesn't feel that way."

"Of course you do, dear." He relaxed her. "Your role is who they made you think you are. Who they think you believe you are."

"But I'm not that person, Jim." Amanda said, desperate for him to understand.

"We know that. But they don't know you know."

She sighed again. "It's just… exhausting, you know? It's harder than I thought it to be."

He pulled her to him and put her head on his shoulder. "Sleep, sweetie." He said. "You've earned it."

Within two minutes she fell asleep and Sebastian looked at Moriarty through the mirror.

"If you don't start giving her some freedom she'll go away." He said.

"No, she won't." Moriarty said without hesitation. "I'm all that is left for her. At least as far as she knows."

"You really got this one," Sabastian said. "She believes everything you tell her. How did you do that?"

"She wanted to believe." Moriarty replied. "I just fed the lies to her until she realized how much she wanted to believe. She is eaten by hatred and hurt. She want to hurt them. I just helped her understand it."

"But what about Sherlock?" Sebastian asked. "They seemed to have a rather good relationship."

"Well," said Moriarty, a wicked smile on his face. "It can be fixed."

The car arrived to the big mansion-like house and Jim woke Amanda up.

"We're home, darling." He sang to her and she wiped her eyes and got up. "We still got about an hour to dinner," he added, "so you might want to take a shower."

"I will." She said, walking up the stairs and towards her room.

"Be down on time!" He called after her.

Amanda filled her tub with hot water and sank into it, committing herself to the addicting stinging sensation and thinking about her meeting with Mycroft. The way he looked at her always made her feel seven years old and caught stealing cookies from the kitchen.

It was obvious to Amanda that Mycroft never really cared about her. He cared for Sherlock, helping him with whatever he wanted no matter what, but he didn't even bother to come to any of her shows. He never bothered to help her practice her lines or try on her outfit. All he ever did was making sure she gets to Cambridge.

He never bothered asking her what she wanted to do.

Lying there in the steaming water, a thought had occurred to Amanda's mind.

What if he knows?

Not about her being stolen and adopted. He most certainly knew _that_. What if he knows the truth about what had happened in the past five years?

She shivered to the thought before emptying the tub and rising from it, the water dropping gracefully from her tall, skinny form. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Same black hair as Moriarty's, but then again, Sherlock's too. The dark eyes that were so opposed to Sherlock and Mycroft's crystal blue, but still resembled it in shape. The grace of an actress, of which Sherlock and Mycroft knew well as they've been actors, too.

Thinking about it, it was inevitable. Living in a house of lies and actors, her fake parents should have seen that she'd become one, too.

She put herself in her violet dress, Jim's favorite, which had a far too low cleavage for her liking and always caused Sab to send her dirty looks when Jim wasn't looking. But Jim loved the dress, and Amanda loved making him happy and she knew if Sabastian will try one dirty move towards her without her consent, Jim will break both his arms and legs.

She'd seen it happen before.

The smell of pasta started reaching her room and Amanda realized the food must soon be ready, and she better head downstairs if she doesn't want to upset Jim.

Without another look at herself, she took a deep breath and headed down the stairs for dinner, hoping she wasn't late.

* * *

**A/N: So I was planning on posting this three days ago, but I didn't have much time and it really needed re-editing...**

**I really hope I will have time to write and post another chapter by monday, because on tuesday I'm flying to London and won't have time to post anything.**

**Thank you for everybody who read it, it means a lot!**

**BTW... I know this is a Sherlock fic but who is excited like me about the new Doctor Who season? Counting the days to it!**


	4. Mycroft

**A/N:**** I wrote this all morning since I'll be off to London in Tuesday and will have no time tomorrow, only so that I can post this before I go.**

**In return, I only ask one thing - COMMENTS!**

**Thank you.**

* * *

Mycroft sat in his car at Baker Street for what seemed like ages. He drove there right when Amanda left the car, and waited around until he saw John leaving the flat. Mycroft had just passes the most annoying part of it all. To wait in order to make sure he doesn't return.

The conversation he was about to have is a private one.

He slowly walked to the front door, entering without knocking and silently arriving to the flat before Mrs. Hudson even noticed he was there.

"Brother dear." He said as he walked in. "We need to talk."

Sherlock looked up at him from his lay on the couch. It was obvious that he was day-dreaming, and that Mycroft interrupted.

"I'm busy." He said. "Come back later."

"You are not busy." Mycroft replied, irritated. "You are doing nothing."

"And very busy doing so." Sherlock replied.

Mycroft sighed. Why were his siblings so damn stubborn? Maybe that was the reason the two of them got along so well. Stubborn as a rock, that due. But that just might play to his hands just this once. He can use their relationship as a solution, though he thought it was more likely being the problem.

"It is concerning Amanda."

Mycroft waited as he saw his words arriving to Sherlock and, despite his attempts to prevent it, settled in his mind and bugging him. The detective sighed.

"What is it?" He asked.

"She's different." Mycroft replied.

"Of course she's different." Sherlock said. "It's been five years. You changed during that time, I changed during that time. Who knows what she did during that time?"

"Apparently no-one," said Mycroft, "which is why I needed to talk to you."

Sherlock straightened in his seat. "What do you mean 'apparently no-one'?" He asked.

"She had been _completely_ off the radar for five years." Mycroft said.

"You're exaggerating," Sherlock said. "Nobody can be _completely_ off the radar."

"She has." Mycroft insisted. "She hadn't signed to any Drama school, classes or courses in Europe. Or to any other university here and in the United States." He added. "She hadn't had any apartments on her name, all of her credit cards weren't used and I couldn't find any job record. During the past five years she had no phone-bills, landline nor mobile, she had no water or electricity bills. She didn't pay rent, buy food or went to pubs and clubs."

"Perhaps you're searching the wrong clubs." Sherlock suggested.

"I'm not blind, Sherlock." Mycroft said. "I know that Amanda isn't… Following the crowd regarding to her sexual references. I wouldn't be surprised to learn that I had known that before she did."

"Where did you search?" Sherlock asked, returning to the matter they were discussing.

"I checked with contacts at France, Spain, Italy, the Netherlands, Belarus, Russia, and basically – Europe." Mycroft replied. "I have also contacted some people who owed me debts from the CIA and the Mossad, she hadn't visited the States or Israel. I have used every contact man I have, and she was undetectable."

"And you wonder why she ran away." Sherlock said, sarcastically. "Of course she lived off the radar, that's the only way she can live if she wanted to get a break from you." He looked at his brother in disgust. "From the three of you, controlling her life, not once asking her what _she_ wanted to do. Not once even considering she has her own opinion, not bothering to even show up at her plays."

"I showed up at her plays." Mycroft said. "But, unlike you, I couldn't let her know it. I needed to back up mother and father, in order to give Amanda a chance at actually _being_ something."

"She could have been an actress." Sherlock nearly whispered. "She could have been a magnificent actress."

"She already was a magnificent actress, Sherlock." Mycroft said. "But don't kid yourself. Acting is not a career. She needed a real one, for back up. So that she wouldn't end up living on the streets."

"She would have never ended up on the streets!" Sherlock rose to his feet. "_I _would have never let her end up in the streets. I'd take her in, and she _knew_ it. But she wouldn't have _needed_ that. Because she _was_ good enough."

"That is exactly what's worrying me Sherlock!" Mycroft yelled, frustration in his voice. "She's an actress, one of the best ones I've ever seen, and I've seen quite a few. How do we know she's telling us the truth?"

At that Sherlock was taken aback. "Telling the truth?" He asked, shocked. "She is our sister, for god's sake! Why _wouldn't _she be telling the truth?"

"Who knows?" Mycroft questioned. "Who knows what she's been through during this time? Who knows who she became, _what_ she became? She might be our sister by blood, Sherlock, but right now, she is a stranger to us!"

The door opened to reveal John and Mrs. Hudson standing and looking in at the flat, where the two brothers were glaring at each other. Sherlock was heated, and looked close to punching Mycroft in the face.

"We heard screams." Mrs. Hudson said, looking worried.

"It's alright." Sherlock said.

"Just a small brotherly quarrel." Said Mycroft. He straightened his suit. "I think it will be best shall I go."

"I agree." Said Sherlock.

Mycroft nodded towards the man and the elderly woman who still stood in the doorway. "John." He nodded. "Mrs. Hudson."

He walked past them and walked towards the exit. Right before he was out he turned to Sherlock.

"Think of what I said, brother-dear." He said, then left the flat, leaving John very confused.

"What the bloody hell was that?" He asked.

"Nothing, really." Sherlock replied. "Mycroft is determined that Amanda is only trying to fool us all."

"Who, the young woman that was here earlier today?" Mrs. Hudson asked. "Is she your sister, Sherlock? Oh, she's just lovely. She was so shy today, and spoke very little, but she was adorable."

Sherlock's head shot up.

"Amanda?" He asked. "Shy? Amanda's never shy."

"Well, she was this morning." Mrs. Hudson exclaimed, returning to her floor.

Sherlock sat silently, as John approached him.

"He think she's acting." He finally said. "He think she's only fooling us."

"That makes sense." John said.

"What?"

"Think about it." He continued. "She's been gone for five years. Vanished as if earth opened its mouth and swallowed her."

"So?" Sherlock asked.

"So," John said, looking at his best friend, "what made her come back now?"


	5. Molly

**A/N:**** London is soooo amazing! I never wanted to leave! But, every vacation must end and so... I'm back home. (Sigh)**

**Anyways, I had LOADS of time to write on the plane, so my gift to you is this chapter. I hope you'd like it!**

**Also, if anyone is interestred, I was challenged by a friend to write a MyStrad story. (She was curious what would be Sherlock's reaction...) I've already started it and am going to make it a mini-project of me (One of many) but that doesn't mean I'm letting this one go to waste. I will keep posting once a week, if not more often. If any of you is interested at reading that one, too, check my uploads during the coming week.**

**Love U All!**

* * *

Amanda stood at the entrance to the morgue at St. Bart's Hospital.

"Oh, hi!" Said a smiling young woman, wearing a white robe. "Are you looking for someone?"

"Um…" Amanda mumbled. "Sherlock told me to meet him here…"

"Are you a client?"

"Why does everybody keep assuming I'm a client?" Amanda asked, annoyed.

"I'm sorry," the woman quickly said, "I didn't mean to offend -"

"It's not offending, just annoying –"

"I'm truly sorry –"

"You have nothing to be sorry about." Amanda cut off the wave of words. She put out her hand for shaking. "I'm Amanda. Sherlock's sister."

"Sister?" The woman said surprisingly, then corrected herself. "Yes, of course. I think John mentioned you yesterday. I'm Molly. I work here."

Amanda chuckled. "Kind of figured that one out already." She then put a hand on her mouth. "Sorry. That came out rude. I just talk and never know when to stop."

"I can see the family resemblance." Molly smiled, much to Amanda's relief. "At least you notice after hand, without the need to someone telling you."

"I had had more experience at social events than my brothers." Amanda smiled back, just as Sherlock came through the door. "Speaking of the devil." She whispered in Molly's ear, causing her to giggle shortly and then silence and blush as Sherlock laid his eyes on her.

"Molly. Amanda." He said, nodding at the two women who stood next to each other, the traces of laughter still marked on their faces. "If you excuse me, I need to examine this." He moved past them and put something under the microscope.

"Do you need help?" Amanda asked.

"No, that is alright." Sherlock replied.

She frowned at him.

"Why am I here then?" She asked.

"John, can you pass me my notebook?"

"Sherlock!" Amanda called. "Why did you call me here?"

He ignored her.

"Sherlock!" She called again.

He wrote something in his notebook.

"Scott!"

Sherlock slowly turned around. "No." He said, and was about to turn back to his work when she spoke again.

"Why not, _Scott_?"

He turned to look at her.

"It seems to catch your attention quite fine." She continued. "I think I'm gonna stick to that a bit longer. Maybe move to William if I get bored."

"Dear god." John smiled.

"What is that?" Molly asked.

"I think," He replied, choking back his laughter, "that's Sherlock's full name.

"William?" Molly asked, confused.

"William Sherlock Scott Holmes." Amanda replied. "Might want to write it down. Hell of a leverage in case he gets to you."

"Two can play this game, you know." Sherlock said.

"You wouldn't." Amanda replied.

"What is going on here?" Molly asked.

"I need to film this." John laughed.

"Marisela." Sherlock said.

"That's not my name." Amanda replied.

"Really? I must've forgotten then. Is it Louisa?" He questioned.

"Shut up!" Amanda yelled.

"Stop it! The three of you!" Molly called.

Everybody stopped and looked at her.

"Either you all starting to act like _adults_, for a change, or get the _hell_ out of my morgue!"

There was silence in the room, only disturbed by Amanda's chuckle. "I like her." She said.

"Alright then." Molly said. "Amanda. What did you want to ask Sherlock?"

"You called me here." Amanda said, looking at him. "Why?"

"I haven't seen you in five years." Sherlock replied. "I wanted to spend time with you. Get to know you again."

"By ignoring me?" She asked in disbelief.

"You've changed." He said, avoiding her question.

"It's been five years." She replied.

"We fought." Sherlock looked at his sister, pain in his eyes. "We never fight. We can fight Mother and Father and Mycroft and the rest of the world all we like, but never each other."

She sighed and looked back at him. "It's been five years."

He shook his head and ran out of the room, John following close after. Only after their footsteps were no longer heard in the corridor, Amanda let herself fall apart.

"I know it's hard." Said Molly, comforting her. "But it will get better."

"No it won't!" Amanda sobbed.

"Don't think that." Molly said, moving closer and holding her in her arms.

"But it's true! Nothing will ever get better with us! I miss him so much, but I can't let myself!"

"Why?"

"Because it's not true." Amanda said. "It was never true."

"That's not true." Molly insisted. "Things are true if you want them to be. Do you want it to be true?"

Amanda nodded, taking in the words Molly just said.

"Well that's it, then." Molly said, as if that's it.

"But what if _he _doesn't want it to be?" Amanda whispered.

"Why wouldn't he?" Asked Molly.

"You don't know me." Amanda said bitterly. "If you would, you would know why."

"I know him." Molly said. "I know how he's like with the people he cares about. What he _does_ for the people he cares about. I helped him do it. And I know enough to see he cares about you."

"Why would he?" Amanda asked, her voice giving away the tiredness she felt.

"Because he's Sherlock." Molly replied simply. "Because he's mad and insane and makes no sense whatsoever. He simply does."

"You don't know me." Amanda said again. "Even for him, there's no reason to care for me."

"I don't believe that is true." Molly insisted.

Amanda looked up at the doctor who was holding her and felt how tight her hands were, locking around her body. They were sitting – when did they sit down? – And Amanda's head rested on Molly's shoulder.

It felt nice. It felt good. It felt better than anything Amanda had ever experienced.

"You don't know me." Were all the words she could manage letting out.

"Will you let me?" Molly asked.

Without hesitation, Amanda leaned towards Molly, just as the second did the same. Their lips met and between the oceans of emotions that was Amanda's life in the past five years, she managed to bring herself to an island of reassurance. Molly was her solid ground.

And Amanda was not intending to ever let her go.


	6. John

**Okay, so this chapter is shorter than the others but has more happening in it. Sorry 'bout that. I'm just on a writer's block with this story so I decided to make Jim start his plan now rather than later.**

**The story will definetly have two more chapters other than that one - Amanda and Jim - and I already know gennerally what will happen next. If I see I can't wrap it up in this two, I will add one between them, named Lestrade.**

**Hope you still like it, please R&R!**

* * *

When Amanda walked out of the hospital, she was surprised to see John standing there.

"Mind joining me for a walk?" He asked. "I need to go through Regents to get home, and company would be nice. Besides, I think a conversation would do well for the both of us."

Amanda looked at him suspiciously before walking towards the general area of Regent's Park, with him following silently by her side.

"What do we need to talk about?" She asked after a couple of minutes.

"Well, you _are_ my best friend's little sister." He replied. "Thought it would be nice to get to know you."

"Oh, I would sure as hell want to _get to know you better_." She said seductively.

"You know you can't flirt your way out of every situation, right?" He asked.

"It usually works just fine." She smiled.

"Not on me." John noted.

"Apparently." She said, raising an eyebrow at him. "So, mister want to get to know me. Tell me about yourself."

"Dr. John Hamish Watson," John said a hint of a smile on his lips, "former Captain in the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers. Served three years before being discharged as a result of an injury. _Married_, in case you were considering anything inappropriate-"

"To a woman named Mary Watson, who is currently pregnant." Amanda said. "Yeah, I know. Talked to her yesterday. She's lovely."

"You…" John was amazed. "You what?"

"I suppose you weren't home last night, or she surely would've told you." Amanda said. "She warned me from the start that there is no secrets between you two. Not any more, that is."

John looked at her suspiciously.

"I don't trust you." He said after a minute or so of silence.

"I know." She replied.

"No, you don't." John said. "I don't trust you and I don't _like_ you. I don't like it that _Sherlock_ trusts you and even less than that Molly. And I sure as hell don't like it that you met with Mary last night, despite the fact that we all know she is more than capable to protect herself."

"You don't have a choice, John." Amanda said her voice low and cold. "I am here. Moreover, this time I am here to stay. Neither you, nor Mycroft, nor my parents can keep me away this time." She looked at him. "I have made a mistake, leaving last time. I do not intend on repeating it. I am not letting go of Sherlock."

"Why?" John asked.

"Why did I leave last time?" Amanda questioned.

"Why did you return?" He corrected.

Amanda looked down at her shoes. "Why does it matters?" She asked.

"Why did you return?" John repeated.

"None of your business." Amanda replied.

"Why." John said, raising his voice. "Did. You. Return?"

"None. Of. Your. Business."

John looked at her and hailed a cab for himself. Just as he was about to enter it, he stopped and looked at her one last time.

"I'm not gonna let it go." He said. "I'm gonna find out what is it with you before you will hurt him."

Amanda was left alone at the street and stared at the cab driving away until it disappeared from view before hailing one of her own. When the cab arrived at the building, she paid the driver and sent him off with a smile before entering and driving the elevator to Jim's office.

"Amanda!" He beamed at her. "You weren't supposed to arrive until later today. Weren't you with Sherlock?"

"He kinda ditched me." She said.

"Well then," Jim replied, "I think we need to take the plan one step forward a bit earlier than I thought."

"Cool." Amanda smiled. "What now?"

"We need to hurt him like he hurt us." He said.

"And how are we gonna do that?" She asked.

"We hurt the ones he cherishes the most."

Amanda looked at Jim with disbelief. "What?"

"He hurt you, the one I cherish the most." Jim explained, his voice alarmingly reasonable for Amanda's liking. Now I will do the same to him."

"No!" Amanda yelled. "You can't!"

"I must, Amanda, don't you understand?" Jim looked amazed. "He hurt you!"

"No, he was the only one that didn't hurt me!" She said.

"You said," Jim continued, "that he was the reason you left."

"Yes, because he was the only one who listened to what _I_ wanted to do!" She practically screamed. "I never meant to hurt _him_! Only _them_!"

He smiled viciously at her. "Too late, kitten. The plan is on and I am not stopping it! This…" He looked at her. "This is beyond you. This is about him, always has been. I do not intend to let you ruin this."

"What does that mean?" She asked, confused.

"It means Johnny boy is going to find out he lost his job. Afterwards, your lady friend will lose her house and dear old Lestrade will find out he's not a DI anymore."

Amanda looked at him with horror. "You can't do that!"

"I can and I will." He replied.

"I'm gonna stop you."

He smiled at her, which drove her mad at how relaxed he was. "I think not." He said. "Sab!"

Before she could think and consider her options, Amanda did the one thing she could think about. She made a run for it.

She ran to the elevator and pressed the button, before giving up and running towards the stairs. She jumped them down, four or five at a time, and ran out of the building and to the street.

Once out, she started running towards the general direction of St. Bart's Hospital and pulled out her phone. She entered her contacts and made a call to the first person she could think about.

"Hello?" He answered on the third ring.

"John, it's Amanda." She said.

"What?" He asked. "How did you even get this number?"

"It doesn't matter now, John." Amanda said, breathless from fear and running. "I need your help. Could you meet me at Bart's?"

"I can't. There's a family emergency and I need to go home."

"Damn." She cursed under her breath. "I should have thought of that."

"Thought of what?" John asked.

"I'm sorry." She said. "He started the plan and now it's too late and I can't stop it."

"What plan?" John asked her. "Why are you sorry? Amanda, if Mary, or anyone, actually, gets hurt –"

"Don't worry." She whispered before hanging up. "I will fix this. I must. If anyone will get hurt I will never forgive myself."


	7. Amanda

**A/N:**** Okay, so I'm really excited about posting this one because it's one (or two) before the last. I would really appreciate reviews, especially now because I take them as ways to improve the next fics and stories I write. Thank you for those who stuck with me up till the end, it makes it nicer to write when I know someone's reading it.**

* * *

When Molly came back from her lunch break, she didn't notice the girl who sat on the floor behind one of the desks. Amanda sat in a perfect location – perfect view of the door but hidden from anyone that came in. Only when Molly turned to grab a microscope she noticed her sitting over there. She also noticed the fact that she was crying.

She sat next to her. "What happened?" she asked.

"Have you ever thought you know someone, but it turns out that you don't?" Amanda replied.

"Yes." Molly said.

"And have the person…" The words choke in Amanda's throat. "Have you ever found out that the person that helped you see how wrong you were wrong about that someone turned out entirely untrustworthy?"

Molly looked at Amanda, sadness in her eyes for what this young woman went through, being so young.

"No." She said. "I haven't." She hesitated a bit before adding, "Do you want to start using names?"

"I can't." Amanda said, looking somewhat terrified. "He'll kill you. He's already started his plan and now he hurts you guys and if I tell you too much, he'll kill you, so that you won't try to stop his plan."

"But _who_?"

Amanda's eyes filled with fear when she answered. "My brother."

Molly's eyebrows shot up with surprise. "Mycroft?"

"No." Amanda said. "Why would you think it to be Mycroft?"

"_Sherlock_?"

"Molly!" Amanda called. "Sherlock and Mycroft are not my brothers."

Molly was taken aback. "They… They're not?"

"No!" Amanda said. "And they know it, by the way. The must know it as when I arrived at them, Sherlock was eight and Mycroft sixteen."

"But…" Molly tried to connect the dots in her mind. "But why would the Holmes raise you if you're not their daughter?"

"I… I don't know." Amanda admitted. "He wouldn't say."

"So how do you know it to be true?"

"Because it all makes sense." Amanda said. "That's why they never cared about what I want and only what they want for me. That's why I always felt like I don't belong. And besides, he said he has a blood test results."

"Did you ever actually _see_ the results?" Molly asked, careful not to hurt this poor young woman even more than she already was.

"Well… No." Amanda said. "But why would he lie?"

Molly put a hand on Amanda's arm, the latter jumping in surprise at the movement. "I have a sample of Sherlock's blood over here, from an investigation he was involved at not so long ago. And I can do blood tests. Do you want me to check yours?"

"You mean you want to…?"

"I'll do a blood test." Molly said. "One where you will see the results of. That person… he may be right. Maybe Sherlock really isn't your brother. But in that case, we'll see it at the test. And we'll think forward from that point on."

"I…." Amanda hesitated. "Okay. Do the test."

Time passed slowly as Molly did the test. She took a blood sample from Amanda and used the one from when she checked if Sherlock was using drugs after John and Mary's wedding. Amanda sat on the floor, not moving an inch all that time. Her life was falling apart, once again, and she couldn't help but think about what Jim was doing now.

John was losing his job. Lestrade, who worked so hard to reach Detective Chief Inspector, was now finding out he's returning to be DI, perhaps even returning to be a patrol officer. Molly, the kind and caring Molly, is going to lose her flat. And only god knows what's happening to Mary and the baby.

And all because of her. None of that would've happened if she just listened to the Holmes' and went to Cambridge like they wanted. She may have been less happy at the moment, but all of those bad stuff wouldn't have happened.

After what seemed like a forever of drowning in her thoughts, Amanda looked up to the sound of people approaching. She looked up at the door and saw John and Sherlock entering the lab, Sherlock worried and John furious.

"Where is she?" John asked.

"John…" Molly said.

"No!" John yelled. "Don't! My wife, my _pregnant_ wife, is missing. I just lost my job, Lestrade found out that not only he isn't a DCI anymore, he's back to patrol. And it all started when _she_ arrived. So tell me, now. Where. Is. She?"

"I'm sorry." Amanda sobbed, revealing her hiding spot to the two men. "I'm so, so sorry."

John walked to her, his anger visible in every move. "No." He said. "You don't get to be sorry. _You_ did this. This is all on you. I knew I shouldn't trust you and look what you've done!"

Sherlock put a hand on his friend's hand. "John, relax." He said. "I'm sure she didn't mean anything bad to happen."

"He's right." Amanda said. "It is my fault."

The men looked at her with surprise. Silence fell in the room, only disturbed by Molly coming and putting a hand on Amanda's shoulder. The younger woman looked up at her.

"Did you finish the blood test?" She asked. Molly nodded. "And?" Fear thrust through her body, not knowing what she wanted to be truth – that she had a valid reason for her actions or that her brother wasn't a mad man.

"Positive." Molly whispered, tears streaming down her face.

"What blood test?" John asked. "I said, _what blood test?_" he said as the women didn't reply.

"I think," Molly said, "it's time you told us what really happened the last five years."

Amanda nodded, choking back the tears as she spoke.

"The plan was to go to ISA academy for acting in France." She said. "I bought the tickets on the day before, using cash and a new alias I made. I went to say my farewell to Sherlock and planned on taking cash out of my account later. But I never had the chance."

She looked up at the trio. John was still furious, but now interest started to show at the surface. Molly was worried and afraid, and Amanda had the feeling she already knew what she was about to hear. Then she looked at Sherlock. His face were unreadable as ever and a rush of pain burst through her heart as she realized what she did to her brother, the one person who was always there for her.

"I was taken from the street. I was drugged and sedated for god knows how long. And then, he arrived." A grimace appeared on her face. "He told me he saved me. He told me he rescued me from you, from the Holmes'. He told me… he told me you lied to me, and that I never belonged there for a reason. He said he was my real brother.

"I didn't listen at first. I told him he was lying but he returned, every day and said all those things over and over again until one day… I stopped arguing. Slowly, I started believing what he said. He took my blood sample and said he had a blood test, and that it came positive. I started believing what he said.

"He took me away, to Berlin. He gave me my freedom to do as I like on the account that I won't contact anyone from England. We moved around every couple of months, changing identities, changing countries. Sometimes he would go on business trips, leaving me to the care of his men, but he never let any of them touch me." The image of the man who tried and grab her breast after Jim cut his hands off flashed into her mind, causing her the need to puke. "Six months ago he said he wanted back to London. He said the Holmes' need to pay for what they put me through, for what they put _us_ through. I didn't argue.

"My role was to gain your trust back, to create a crack we will be able to enter from. I didn't know the rest of the plan. Not until today.

"I came to him after I talked to John. I told him things weren't going as planned and he escalated the plan. Only then I found out he wanted to hurt you. Not mother and father who supposedly took me. Not Mycroft who watched my every move so that I won't run away." She looked up at her brother. "He wanted to hurt the one person who was always there for me. And he wanted to do that by hurting those you care about the most.

"I asked him not to. I _begged_ him not to. But he said this isn't about me. This is about you."

Tears stream down her face as she finished her story. From the corner of her eye she could see Molly crying, her hand over her mouth, and John, pity starting to show on his face. But her eyes were on Sherlock, who neared her silently and pulled her up and into his embrace.

"You went through so much, and you have been so strong and so amazing all along." He whispered in her ear. "I need you to know that none of this is your fault. Nothing that happened and nothing that would happen. But I need your help right now. I need you to tell me who did this to you."

"He will kill you." Amanda said.

"No, he won't." Sherlock reassured her. "No one can kill me."

"He can." She said, the confidence in the statement alarming him.

"How can you be so sure?" He asked her, pulling her back to look in to her eyes. She broke the eye contact and looked down at her feet.

"Because he did it once before."


	8. Making Plans

"Okay, one thing at a time. Call Mycroft. Save Mary. Stop Moriarty. Get everybody what they lost. Then you go to see mother and father."

Amanda sat at one of the morgue's chairs. Molly was holding her hand and looking at Sherlock as he spoke, but Amanda was looking at John.

"I don't like two things on that list." She said, not taking her eyes off the doctor, who was currently ignoring her.

"I know you don't," Sherlock said coldly, "but those things has to be done."

"I can understand why calling Mycroft. He can help, I get that." She said. "But why do I need to go to… them?" Even after coming to terms with the fact that Jim lied to her, she still couldn't stop but hate the people who raised her. And the fact she knew they were her real parents only made it worst.

"Because you haven't seen them in five years." Molly replied softly.

"I didn't miss them." Amanda said, sincerity in her voice as even before she started believing the lies Jim fed her, she didn't miss home.

She made her choice the moment she told Sherlock goodbye.

"They missed you, Amanda." Sherlock said. She rubbed her eyes, starting to get tired of this conversation.

"We'll have that conversation later."

"Fine." Sherlock said. "I'm calling Mycroft."

"Don't tell him about me!" Amanda called as he began walking away, pulling out his phone. He stopped and turned back at her.

"What do you mean? He must know."

"That's not true and we both know that." Amanda protested. "Nobody has to know."

"Why are you so goddamn stubborn?" Sherlock called, throwing his hands up in the air with frustration. Amanda tore her eyes off John for the first time in an hour or so.

"Because I'm a Holmes."

"I really think my _missing, pregnant wife_ should be higher on the priorities right now." John said and Amanda and Sherlock looked back at him.

"I'm sorry." Sherlock said, the softness in his voice hurting Amanda at the knowledge it was not aimed at her and might never be. "I'll not tell him the truth," he then said to Amanda, "but once this is done, you will."

He walked out of the room without giving her the chance to respond and she was left with a very angry John and a Molly who couldn't bring herself to look at her.

"Yes, she's in danger. Moriarty." They could hear Sherlock talking to Mycroft from the other room. "He contacted me. At the hospital with John, Molly and Amanda. No, no-one's hurt. Goodbye."

He walked back into the room and looked at the silent trio.

"Mycroft should be here within five minutes, give or take, and his assistant should fax information about suspicious assets purchased since you return to London." He said. "Though it will be a waste of time for two reasons: The first is the fact that Moriarty won't keep her for long, he would most lightly do the same thing as he did at the pool." He stopped at the sight of his friend's face going pale.

John didn't forget the events at the pool, as did Sherlock, but until now the detective hadn't realized how scared he must've been. And now Mary, the woman he loves more than ever, is at this situation.

"But we will not let it reach that far." He said. "We will find her beforehand and she is going to be alright." He cleared his throat. "The second reason, which we can use to our advantage, is that Moriarty had this planned for a long time. He didn't purchased a base now, he did it weeks if not months ago."

"He doesn't need to purchase an asset." Amanda said. "He already got a bunch, surely he can use them."

"Or he can use an abandoned building, like he did with the two kids gone missing." Noted Molly.

"So, basically, we've got nothing." John said.

"No we don't." Said Sherlock. "We've got something he didn't think we will, something he probably didn't plan we'd have."

"What is that?" Asked Amanda.

"You."

She looked at him, shocked. "Me? How is that helpful? I'm useless, I'm worthless."

"Of course." John said, understanding what Sherlock meant, and even Molly nodded with agreement. It seemed that Amanda is the only one not getting it, and she couldn't figure it out.

"Can somebody please tell me how am I useful?" She asked. "I'm a no-good. I let him trick me for years."

"Exactly." Sherlock said. "He thinks you believe him. He thinks he got you. If you go and work with him-"

"- he might tell you where Mary is and what he is planning to do with her next." John completed the sentence. Amanda looked at them.

"Do you honestly think that'll work?" She asked, dismissing the idea.

"I have no clue." Sherlock said, as if not noticing the tone of her voice. "But you're the best actress I've ever seen and I've seen quite a few. If anyone could pull it off, it'll be you."

Amanda nodded, starting to get the logic behind their words when Molly spoke.

"And if it won't?"

Amanda looked at her. She could see the woman was worried, scared to lose the first person she opened up to in so long. Amanda neared the woman and pulled her into a tight embrace.

"I have to give it a chance, Molly." She whispered. "Can't you see?"

"Is that your idea for redemption?" Molly asked, tears starting to show in her eyes. "Putting yourself at the line of fire to mend for the wrongs you've supposedly did?"

"It's not redemption. Though I have quite a few wrongs I should mend." Amanda said with half a smile before it faded, giving it place for sorrow, fear and sadness. "I'm already in the line of fire. Perhaps I've always been. And while I am," she took every courage she had left, "I should use it to help. To save Mary. To stop Jim."

She stepped out of the embrace and looked at Sherlock. "What should I do?"

* * *

She walked up to the building she ran away from mere hours ago.

She entered the elevator and went up to Jim's office.

She stood at the entrance at his office and told him she's sorry.

She told him she overreacted and that now that she thought of it, she realized he was right.

She told him she hated Sherlock and that he deserves to suffer.

She told him if he thinks that is the best way to do it, she won't argue.

She said it was foolish of her to start and connect to Sherlock's friends.

She said the people who befriended him brought those wrongs on themselves.

She called herself a stupid little girl as he did so many times in the past.

She neared him as he stood up and pulled her to his embrace.

She listened to him say he know she was sorry.

She asked for his forgiveness and smiled when he said of course.

And her heart skipped a beat when the syringe entered her arm.

* * *

**A/N:**** I dont know anymore...**

**I just keep writing this for some absurd reason of finishing something I started. I don't like it any more I should just throw it all away.**

**Sorry for this bad ending for the chapter, it was short and I wanted to make it a bit longer so I added this bit here, I planned to put it at the next one.**

**Thank you for all of those who keep reading... Which reminds me - more people read ch7 than ch6. Does that makes sense?**


	9. Mary

**A/N:**** Sorry for my note last chapter, I've gone through quite a lot and was really depressed.**

**Enjoy the chapter, hope you don't hate it :)**

* * *

Amanda's eyes fluttered open, aching from what little light in the basement. Her mind seemed to work painfully slowly, everything seemed blur and as she tried to sit down, a wave of nausea rushed through her and she turned her head aside and puked. Her head hurt so badly that she hadn't noticed the hand on her back until the woman spoke.

"It's okay, love, just let it all out."

She turned her head to see the source of the voice and another wave rushed through her, shaking her entire body as nothing but acid liquids that burned her throat fell from her mouth to the floor.

"Slow movements, no sharp turns." The woman instructed and Amanda managed to pin a name to the voice.

"Mary." She said, her voice cracking and her throat dry like the desert. "Oh, Mary. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about that, dear." Mary's relaxed voice ordered. "Right now you need to drink something."

Amanda reached out a shaking hand and grabbed the bottle Mary was holding out to her. She took a small sip and nearly spat it out.

"What is it?" She asked, disgusted.

"Water." Mary replied, slightly amused. "Really, it's just water."

"It tastes dreadful." Amanda said.

"That's just the taste of your mouth." Mary said. Amanda took another sip and realized now that she was paying attention that the liquid tasted slightly less horrific. "You need to drink it all, it will make you feel better."

"How long…" Amanda choked the words out and Mary guided her to drink more before she continued speaking. "How long am I here?"

"I'm not sure," Mary admitted, "but I guess it's been a couple of hours."

_Hours?_ Amanda thought. She's been out for a couple of _hours_?

"I need…" Amanda tried to stand up and dizziness whirled through her. "I need to… to get to Sherlock. He needs to know… to know..."

"You need to lie down." Mary said. "You've been drugged and obviously taking it rather bad. You need to let it all out of your system before you do anything."

"There is no time." Amanda said. "He… Jim knows."

"Jim?" Mary didn't seem to follow Amanda's line of thought.

"Moriarty. Jim Moriarty."

Even in the barley lit basement. Amanda could see the effect the words had on Mary.

"Moriarty's alive?" The woman asked. "How is that possible? How can he be alive?"

"I don't know." Amanda said. "I only knew he was supposed to be dead a couple of years later when I came across an article regarding it."

"Alright, it looks to me as if I'm missing something here." Mary shook her head. "How are you connected to Moriarty?"

"He was the person I was with the past five years." Amanda replied, ashamed. "He… he made me believe he was my real brother, not Sherlock. He turned me against the Holmes' and by the time I realized something was wrong…." She sighed. "The plan was in motion."

"What plan?" Mary asked.

"The plan to hurt him the way thy hurt us. To hurt those he loves the most."

Mary looked scared. "Is John alright?"

Amanda couldn't help but laugh bitterly at that. "You've been kidnapped, drugged, taken here, you have absolutely no idea if you or your baby will even live to see tomorrow." She looked at the pregnant woman. "And you're asking me if your husband's alright?"

"I've been through worst." Mary said. "Not living to see tomorrow? I've had days I didn't know if I'd live the next ten seconds."

"But you weren't pregnant." Amanda noted. "You have a living human being inside of you, and you have to keep him safe."

"I could be helpful to you here." Mary insisted.

"But you can't. You have a responsibility to your daughter. And now," Amanda looked around her at the small cellar, ignoring the headache that pounded through her entire body, "so do I." She rose to her feet and her hand brushed the walls.

"What are you doing?" Mary asked.

"I know this place." Amanda replied. "I've been here before, when he just taken me five years ago. If you run away," she looked at her cellmate, "you could tell Sherlock where I am."

"If I ran away, he'll kill you."

"Then so be it." Amanda said calmly.

"How can you be so relaxed about the thought of you being dead?" Mary asked.

"I've done bad things." Amanda said, as if it was obvious.

"So have I." said Mary.

"Then you must know that it is not up to us to seek for forgiveness." The younger woman replied. "If what I've done is truly unforgivable, then I'll die."

"You can't think that!" Mary said, shocked.

"It's the best way to think." Amanda said. "If I die, I'll die knowing I deserved it. If I live, I will know there is still a chance for me."

"But there _is_ still a chance for you!" Mary protested. "You don't deserve dying!"

"If that's the case," Amanda looked at Mary, determined as she ever was, "I guess we'll find out soon enough." The echoing of footsteps filled the small chamber. "They're coming."

"I can't let you do this, Amanda!"

"But you must." Amanda replied fiercely. "You have more than yourself to think about."

The basement was quiet except for the sound of footsteps approaching.

"Three people." Mary broke the silence. "I'll go on two, you'll go on the third and we try to escape, together."

"If something goes wrong, you don't wait for me." Amanda warned. "Once you're out, you run and you run fast. Don't think about me, think about getting to John and Sherlock." And before neither could say another thing, the door opened.

The three guards came in and looked at the two women. One of them headed forward and grabbed Amanda by the wrist, and she saw Mary moving from the corner of her eyes.

The former assassin launched herself forward, throwing one of the guards at the wall and ducking the punch the other one threw at her. The man who hit the wall neared her but with one well planned kick, she hit his head and he fell unconscious.

Amanda was less experienced with fighting, but knowing the basics, she lifted her knee between the legs of the guard who caught her. He yelled in pain and let go of her arm, and the two women ran to the door.

The remaining guard had to choose which prisoner he was allowing to escape. With a moment's decision, he reached towards Amanda and pulled her arm at him. A sickening voice rang at the basement and Amanda screamed in pain as her wrist broke, but she saw Mary leaving as she told her to.

Despite the pain at her arm and the fear she felt about the consequences of her actions, at the sight of the pregnant woman running to safety, she couldn't help but smile to herself.

* * *

**A/N2: I didn't plan on letting Mary ran away, but I wrote and it just turned out she does so I decided to keep it that way. Just because I thought I would need a happy moment as much as the characters would.**

**PS A friend of mine explained to me that a lot of authors don't follow actual show timelines so just to be clear: Mary == After Reichenbach Fall. Just to be clear.**


	10. The Final Act

The concrete was cold.

Amanda never realized how cold the concrete can be until now.

She was there for what felt like hours, only she knew it couldn't be hours because Jim said it will be around twenty minutes. She wondered how long it will be until the twenty minutes passes. Then she'll die.

She wondered what will happen then. Maybe it will end. It already started to get better. Or was it worst? How does it feels? Dying? The pain wasn't that sharp already. The feeling in her fingertips started to get numb. She even started hearing voices: Sherlock and Molly and John talking to her.

She felt someone moving her arm from her abdomen and she realized it was long since she applied pressure there. That's probably not good, right? She should apply pressure where she was shot. She found out she doesn't care any longer.

The someone applied pressure and she laughed to herself. How funny is that things happen when we think of them? The laughter died as she realized she couldn't manage to bring it out and she frowned. Now nobody will understand how funny it was.

She was raised into someone's arms and she thought it must be a different someone, because the first someone was still applying pressure. Applying. That's a funny word.

She was moved around and her head hurt, she grunted and vaguely realized a warm hand was put inside her cold one. She was feeling her hand again. When the pain passed there was clarity that wasn't there before.

Someone was carrying her. Sherlock. And John was applying pressure on her wounds, taking care of her even after all she's done. And Molly. She was there, too. Holding her hand and whispering to her, telling her all will be alright. But it won't. It won't because that's what Jim said and Jim's always right.

Or is he? She became dizzy, it was dizzying to think so hard and it was hard to think at all. Is dizzying a word? She thought it was. She hoped it was.

The last coherent thought that crossed her mind was that dizzying is most defiantly a word.

* * *

Sherlock and John stood side by side at Amanda's grave. Molly was nearby, crying, and Sherlock thought she shouldn't be crying.

She didn't deserve to cry. Despite the short romantic involvement between Amanda and Molly, Molly didn't know Amanda. Neither did Mary, or John, or most of the people at the funeral.

Even Mother and Father, along with Mycroft, didn't deserve to cry. They didn't know her, either. They knew who they wanted her to be. Who she pretended to be, so skillfully being the gifted actress she was.

Nobody deserved to cry. Nobody but Sherlock. But he couldn't, he wouldn't, because Moriarty must be nearby, watching.

He thought of Moriarty: Of the man who took his sister, broke her, and brought her back only to be taken away one more time. The man who killed his sister, letting her die thinking she deserved it, thinking it was making up for the wrongs she'd done. The wrongs Moriarty made her do.

He took one more look at his sister's gravestone.

He will be expected to go to his parents' house soon. To sit there while the guests says the whole "Sorry for your loss" ordeal. Pathetic.

John put a hand on his shoulder. "We have to go." He said and Sherlock nodded, turning away from the grave and leaving.

* * *

From a small distance, a man and a woman watched this exchange. They held hands, or more accurately, the man held the woman's hand, as if preventing her from running away.

"Here we are." He said. "The final act. I filled my part of the deal. They walk away, safe and unharmed, and it will stay that way as long as you will not do anything stupid. Understood?"

The woman nodded silently. Her other hand was in the coat pocket, playing with a small envelope and her heart beat a million times a minute at the fear of Moriarty finding out it was there.

"Let's go then." He said, pointing at the car.

She turned and pulled her hand out of her pocket, intentionally dropping the envelope to the ground, where it will be found hours later and brought to the man whose name was written on it.

Mycroft Holmes will read it carefully, and once he is convinced it is not a fraud he will send for one of his best men, Anthony. Anthony will listen carefully to the mission the elder man puts upon him and will confirm Mycroft he understood the importance of secrecy.

If Sherlock will find out the truth, if Moriarty will suspect something is going on, if she will act differently for any reason, everyone will die.

They needed a man on the inside, slowly breaking Moriarty's organization and eventually killing the man himself to save her. And Anthony had to start right away, for it had been hours since she dropped the note at the cemetery and entered the car with Moriarty.

It had been hours since, once again, Amanda Holmes was presumed dead while in truth she was a prisoner of the world's greatest criminal mind.

* * *

**A/N:**** Well, that was HARD! I re-edited that chapter about ten times, and only in the last two I manage to keep Amanda alive.**

**Technically, this is the end of the story but I'm currently considering writing a sequel in two parts, the first of which will be a crossover between Sherlock and Criminal Minds. If I will, the main characters will be Amanda, Mycroft, Moriarty, Anthony and the Criminal Minds cast. In the third part, I will do a WhoLock fic, and it might have a bit more Sherlock cast in it.**

**Please review, I'd really love to know how you thought of the story in total and of this last chapter, plus if you'd want me to write the sequels.**

**Thank you all for sticking around with me this long, you're the best!**


End file.
